Bulma kept her distance.
She was shaking, but he was like a statue.
There was a look in his eyes, the kind worn by someone who had already checkmated Bulma long ago.
"The name's Don Leporino. See, I used to be a betting man, cards, dice, you name it. Then one day, I put everything I had on Lord Pilaf. Best gamble I ever made. Now? Guarda, I'm living the dream."
Right on cue, the elevator doors behind Bulma slid open.
She tensed, bracing herself for Kurella, but instead, a lone businessman stepped out.
He froze mid-step between them, clearly confused and already afraid of whatever he'd just walked into.
"Kurella's had her fun, but I think the timing is just right. Time for me to step in and steal the scene. I'm sure my lovely colleague won't mind... too much."
And then, his body snapped.
There was a sickening crunch of bone as he began to grow, two long, grey ears punched right through the felt of his fedora.
His face pulled forward, stretching into a snout, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were burning like twin flares in the dark.
"I might lack her... flair for the dramatic. I'm not as monstrous as Kurella, sure. But I promise you, doll, what I can do to a person is far more... let's call it unpleasant."
He didn't rush. Leporino just strolled forward, while the man against the wall could only stare, breathless and shaking.
"B-back off! Stay away!" The guy scrambled for the elevator, but the ceiling exploded in a shower of debris.
Kurella landed in a crouch right in front of him.
She took one look at Leporino's transformation and let out a purr of approval.
"Wait! Stop!"
Bulma's voice cracked as she screamed for them to stop, but it was like she wasn't even there.
Leporino reached out, his fingers grazing the man's suit.
The man's scream cut off mid-throat as his body flickered and collapsed inward, shrinking down until he was nothing more than a carrot rolling across the floor.
Kurella let out a frustrated snarl.
"She was right in front of you, why give up the surprise?"
Don Leporino picked up the carrot, tossing it lightly in the air.
"Patience, cara. Where's the fun in that? Besides, we don't know her secret yet. I want to see this radar for myself. I'd hate to find out Lady Mai was wrong after I've put the girl in the pantry."
God, she's right. He had me. The only reason I'm not a carrot on the floor is because they're flying blind. They want to know how I'm finding the dragon balls... they don't know the radar is sitting right here in my purse. Let's keep it that way.
They moved as one, stalking toward her with a terrifying confidence.
Bulma stumbled, her feet tangling as she tried to retreat.
"And that, as they say in the theater, is that. No more hallways, no more running. You've reached the end of the line, bambina."
A loud, tired voice cut right through the nightmare, shattering the silence.
"Hey, Bulma! Is that you?" Goku was standing at the far end of the hall, looking like he'd just crawled out of bed.
He gave a massive, toothy yawn and rubbed his eyes, totally ignoring the two monsters in front of him.
He wandered closer.
"Man, what's all the noise? You okay?"
Kurella and Leporino froze, snapping their heads back to look at Goku.
"Impossible. No human should have recovered from that dosage of sedative gas so quickly!"
"Geez, Bulma, what'd you eat? That smell in the hall was gross! It literally knocked Oolong out."
The weight lifted off Bulma's chest the second she saw Goku's messy hair.
She straightened up, pointing a defiant finger at Kurella and Leporino.
"Goku, you're just in time! They're here for the Dragon Balls, so don't let them get away!"
Goku's sleepy expression vanished instantly.
He tightened his grip on the Nyoibo, his gaze turning sharp and focused as he looked at the two modified Animalias.
"Oh, so it was you guys. Man, you really should've used the bathroom before coming down here. That's just gross."
Kurella lunged forward, her claws extending instinctively.
"Y-You dare accuse me of something so... so filthy?! You disgusting little monkey!"
Leporino didn't look away from Goku.
"Easy, Dame. Don't let your temper cloud the facts. This is the brat who broke the Desert Wolf. He's not some lost kid, Kurella. He's a problem. Take the Starch girl. I'll handle the kid. A brat who can take down a wolf... well, I suspect he's got a very refined flavor, I'd hate to let such a rare vintage go to waste."
Kurella bared her teeth, a chilling look that promised a slow death. Bulma didn't give her the chance.
"Goku, I'm gone! Catch up with me later! Keep your distance from that guy! If he touches you, you're done for! Hit him from a distance!"
Bulma booted the nearest door open and scrambled inside, throwing her shoulder against the wood to close it.
She wasn't just hiding. If she could get Kurella into a corner, she had a chance.
Kurella followed and didn't bother with the handle.
She lunged, her claws shredding through the heavy oak in long, violent strokes as she pursued Bulma.
In the hallway, the silence was worse.
Don Leporino struck a unnatural pose, his transformed silhouette looming over Goku.
"Alright, kid. Let's get to it. You look a little lean, but I've always been fond of a challenge. What do you think, would you prefer being a side of glazed carrots, or should I just go for the full garnish?"
"I'm not for eating, you weird rabbit!"
The last of the wood gave way under Kurella's claws.
She stalked into the room, her gaze flickering from the high ceilings to the lines of the kitchen.
It was too quiet.
She prowled past the stove, but then, Something caught the light.
A porcelain cup, sitting perfectly still on the countertop, felt like a sudden, jarring note in a song.
A cup of tea? Maintenant? To go through the trouble of the pour, the steeping... only to leave it here to grow cold and bitter? It is beyond rude, non? Whoever is hiding in this room has absolutely no respect for the ritual.
The monstrous form shimmered away, leaving the woman behind.
She was the picture of elegance again, without a word, she finished the tea and poured herself a cup.
She stood there in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed, drawing in a long, slow breath of the steam.
For Kurella, the ritual came before the kill.
"Better than I expected." she said on a hollow tone.
She took a moment to wash the porcelain, drying it with a nearby towel before placing it neatly back in the rack.
"It would be a shame to kill someone with such decent taste." She turned away from the sink.
Bulma was squeezed into the narrow gap behind a heavy velvet sofa, her palm pressed hard against the mouth of an elderly woman who looked ready to snap.
She could feel the woman's terrified, hot breath against her skin.
Neither of them dared to move.
clack...
clack...
clack.
From her cramped spot on the floor, Bulma watched through the shadows.
She's one of those... the kind that can't let a single hair stay out of place. It's a compulsion. She's a perfectionist to a fault... and that's exactly how I'm going to trip her up.
Kurella stood in the center of the room, returning to its usual mask of cold apathy.
"This is becoming... tedious. Quel ennui. Perhaps I should stop playing at being human. A few seconds in my other skin, a single breath of your scent... and this little game of hide-and-seek would be over.
But just as she began to focus to transform, something caught the corner of her eye.
She froze, her gaze locking onto the grand piano in the corner of the suite.
Bulma had calculated every inch of the mess.
The piano lid rested at a crooked, uncomfortable angle. The coasters were almost symmetrical, just enough to be wrong. With one hanging off the edge by a hair.
Kurella's eye began to throb.
The monster wanting to come out was suddenly shoved back down by the perfectionist screaming in her head.
She stopped dead, eyes locked on the crooked coaster, the Animalia shift cutting out mid-motion.
That... that is unacceptable.
She turned her back on the sofa where Bulma hid and crossed the room toward the table, drawn to the unfinished arrangement.
Kurella reached out and nudged the third coaster into place, aligning it perfectly with the others.
Then she moved to the piano, adjusting the lid until the angle felt right.
A shallow breath slipped from her lips, and for a moment, the cold, distant calm settled back over her face.
As she turned to resume the hunt, her eyes went wide.
Across the room, on the bookshelf, three heavy encyclopedias stuck out, just an inch farther than the rest.
Beside them, a decorative curtain tassel was draped over the arm of a chair, tangled and uneven.
A small, careless mess.
And completely unforgivable.
"What?! C'est impossible!"
The hunt was forgotten.
Kurella lunged for the bookshelf, she fought to restore the proper order.
Just as she finished, she caught a glimpse of the balcony door.
The rug was askew.
Only a few degrees off-center, but it was enough to make her jaw clench until it practically creaked.
"Accident? No. No, no, NO!"
She slammed a fist against the wall, her calm mask finally shattering into a thousand pieces.
"This is calculated! You are using my own dignity to trip me up! You dare... you DARE turn my ritual into a joke?!"
Kurella's composure shattered.
But Bulma was already two steps ahead.
A mischievous grin cut across Bulma's face as she snatched a capsule from her purse.
"Here's your ritual!"
POOF
The capsule burst open at Kurella's feet, flooding the space with adhesive foam. Translucent strands snapped outward, clinging to her dress and her hair, stretching and sticking no matter how hard she pulled away.
Kurella staggered back, clawing at her face as the residue gummed up her fingers and ruined her hair.
For a woman who lived by fashion, it was worse than a bullet.
"My... my dress... MY UNIFORM! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! IT IS RUINED! TOTALEMENT RUINÉ!"
Kurella shouted, clawing at the stuff stuck to her hands.
It stretched out, then snapped back. Every time she tried to get it off, it just got worse.
She completely lost it.
HShe couldn't get it off.
While Kurella reeled, Bulma eased the elderly woman out from behind the sofa, one steady hand on her shoulder. She gave her a quick, reassuring nod.
"Stay here, ma'am. Don't move."
Then Bulma bolted for the balcony.
She snapped another capsule between her fingers and tossed it forward.
Midair, it burst open, unfolding into a grappling unit.
HookShot-C.
The hook shot upward and caught the edge of the floor above.
"You're going to pay for this, Starch!"
Kurella roared. That was it, she was done.
Her body started twisting, getting longer.
Fabric ripped as muscles shifted underneath.
Grey fur spread across her skin.
Her snarl got deeper, rougher.
Those blue eyes blazed.
Bulma yanked herself upward hard and shot toward the next floor, leaving the suite behind.
Left the other Dame Kurella too, the one still thrashing in all that sticky mess, her body taking over, going full Animalia whether she wanted it to or not.