One "romantic" experiment later, the estate becomes a disaster zone… and Bulma's patience finally explodes.
Morning at the Brief estate was wrapped in silence. Warm sunlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and scattered golden patches across the floor.
Vitelli and Bulma slept entwined, their breathing even, peaceful.
For once, Vitelli hadn't gotten up early to rush into the gravity chamber. He stayed in bed, savoring the rare luxury of being lazy.
That peace lasted less than five minutes.
"BANG BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG!"
A barrage of loud knocking detonated outside the bedroom door like firecrackers.
"Vitelli! Are you awake?! Are you awake?! Vitelli! BANG BANG BANG!"
Goku's bright, booming voice punched straight through the wood and into their ears.
"Mmm…" Bulma frowned in her sleep, grumbled in irritation, and instinctively burrowed deeper into Vitelli's chest like a half-asleep cat.
Vitelli jolted awake. The haze of sleep vanished instantly, a vein twitching at his temple.
Carefully, he slid his arm out from under Bulma's head and sat up. Seeing her blink blearily with that delicate frown, he lowered his voice.
"It's fine. Go back to sleep," he murmured. "I'll go see what that little menace wants this early."
There was heat in his tone.
Bulma gave a sleepy nod, pulled the blanket over her head, and sank right back into dreamland.
Vitelli marched to the door with a pressure in the air around him and yanked it open.
Goku stood there, face glowing with excitement.
"Vitelli! I got stronger! That iron house thing is super useful! I feel like—"
Vitelli didn't let him finish.
He moved like lightning—pinched Goku's soft cheek and twisted hard.
"OW!" Goku yelped, but his excitement didn't dim in the slightest, as if he'd already accepted that this was Vitelli's version of "good morning."
"You little gremlin," Vitelli hissed, keeping his voice low. "Why are you pounding on my door at dawn?!"
"I got stronger, Vitelli!" Goku said loudly, unfazed. "Really! That iron house is amazing! Punching in there feels totally different!"
Vitelli's eye twitched.
Instead of arguing, he grabbed Goku by the back of the collar like a misbehaving puppy, hauled him down the hall, and tossed him onto the wide living room sofa.
"Alright. Shut it," Vitelli snapped. "I'm washing up. Whatever you want to say—wait until I'm done."
He turned and headed to the washroom, muttering under his breath.
"Seriously… getting stronger by a tiny bit and he's acting like he discovered fire. Backwater Earth kid…"
He'd conveniently forgotten that he'd once felt the exact same urge to share the moment—except back on Planet Vegeta, there had been no one worth talking to.
He hadn't even reached the sink when Goku's voice chased him again.
"Vitelli! I'm starving! I didn't eat since last night because I was training!"
Vitelli stopped, sighed, and rolled his eyes so hard it nearly hurt.
"Yeah, yeah! I heard you! Wait!"
He barked instructions into the smart home system, ordering the robot butler to prepare an absurdly generous breakfast. Then he finally started washing up, yawning the whole time.
When he returned to the dining hall, Goku was already seated at the massive table, annihilating a mountain of food like a storm with teeth.
Plates emptied at a visible speed.
Vitelli rubbed his stomach. He wasn't that hungry—
But…
"Since I'm here," he muttered, pulled out a chair, and joined the slaughter.
Their eating shook the household enough to draw Mrs. Brief from the garden, where she'd been tending her flowers and pampering the estate's small animals.
She set down her gardening scissors and stepped into the dining room, eyes bright with curiosity.
"My~ what an appetite this early, Vitelli," she said with a delighted smile. Then her gaze fell on the unfamiliar child. "And who is this adorable young friend?"
Vitelli swallowed and nodded politely. "Morning, Mrs. Brief. This is Goku. He's a friend Bulma and I met back when we were looking for the Dragon Balls."
"Oh my goodness—so you're Goku-chan!" Mrs. Brief's warmth ignited instantly.
She leaned closer, watching his fearless eating with open delight, and gently ruffled his spiky hair.
"How precious! Eat as much as you like, sweetheart. There's plenty of food here."
Goku's cheeks were stuffed. He nodded eagerly, words muffled by mouthfuls.
"Mmph! Thank you, big sister!"
"Big… sister?" Mrs. Brief blinked—then burst into laughter so bright it filled the room.
"Oh my, what a sweet talker!" she giggled. "That mouth is dangerously charming!"
Vitelli watched in quiet alarm.
This kid… was terrifying.
—
After a breakfast so excessive it felt like a minor war, Vitelli finally led Goku to the backyard gravity chamber.
"How much can you handle now?" Vitelli asked.
Goku counted on his fingers, serious as if doing advanced math.
"…Five times."
Vitelli nodded and entered commands into the control panel.
Hummm…
The interior lights dimmed slightly. Invisible pressure settled over the room.
To Vitelli, it was a breeze.
He looked at Goku.
The kid stood upright, breathing steady—completely comfortable.
"Not bad," Vitelli said, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Stabilizing five times gravity in a single day… that's you, alright, Kakarot."
Goku grinned so wide it nearly split his face. He bounced on his toes, eager.
"Let's spar! I want to see how big the gap is!"
Vitelli folded his arms, lifted his chin slightly, and—in a flawless imitation of a certain future Saiyan prince—adopted a posture that screamed arrogant superiority.
He crooked one finger at Goku.
"Come at me with everything you've got. Let's see your progress."
Goku's expression sharpened. He dropped into the classic Turtle School stance.
"Okay! Here I come—HA!"
He flashed forward like lightning, fist driving straight for Vitelli's face.
Vitelli didn't move.
He casually raised one hand and caught Goku's fist dead-on, perfectly.
Then he flicked his wrist—
And tossed Goku aside like a punching bag.
"Stop holding back," Vitelli said flatly. "You really think I can't tell?"
Goku flipped in the air, landed cleanly, and his playful ease vanished. He looked up with genuine focus.
Then his speed exploded.
A storm of punches poured toward Vitelli, his mouth firing off rapid martial shouts.
"Ada-da-da-da!"
Vitelli's lips curved. "Better."
He still didn't step.
His body swayed with minimal motion, ghostlike. Every punch cut past him by a hair. Goku couldn't even graze his clothing.
Goku grit his teeth.
"Afterimage Technique!"
In an instant, multiple Gokus flickered into existence around Vitelli, seven or eight illusions striking at once—real and fake layered together.
Vitelli didn't even bother to identify the real one.
His voice carried mild disappointment.
"That's it? You think this is going to fool me?"
While he spoke, the real Goku slipped behind him without a sound.
Goku clasped his hands, excitement flashing in his eyes.
"Rock… Paper… Scissors! HA!"
His attack snapped for the back of Vitelli's head—
Vitelli didn't turn.
He simply tilted his head slightly to the side.
The cutting force whistled past his ear.
And at the same time—
His right leg shot backward like a scorpion's tail.
"BAM!"
A clean, brutal upward kick landed flush on Goku's head.
"YAAAH!" Goku cried, launched backward again, rolling across the floor in a messy tumble.
He staggered up, rubbing his spinning head, face pinched with pain—
But his eyes burned hotter.
"So… strong…!" he gasped, then lowered his stance again.
With a stomp that made the floor tremble, he surged forward like an arrow.
His strikes became denser, heavier, sharper.
Vitelli's voice remained calm.
"Oh? Is that all, Goku?"
This time, he didn't dodge.
As the flurry arrived, Vitelli's hands moved like a blur—snagging both of Goku's wrists in a perfect clamp.
Then Vitelli's right foot shot forward—
A heavy front kick drove into Goku's stomach.
"GWAAH—!"
Goku folded like a broken bow, hurled backward as if struck by a speeding truck, and slammed into the ground.
He curled, clutching his abdomen, breath wheezing out in painful little sounds.
Vitelli didn't chase.
He knew the kid wasn't finished.
And sure enough, after a long, stubborn struggle, Goku forced himself upright again.
This time, he didn't rush forward.
He lowered his head, pulled his hands to his waist, palms facing—
Blue light gathered between them.
The pressure in the room changed.
"Kame…"
"Ha…"
"Me… HA!!!"
Goku's voice dropped into something steady, determined—like he was throwing everything he had into this single move.
Vitelli watched him with quiet respect.
He didn't want to casually swat it away. Not when Goku was putting his whole heart into it.
He sighed softly, then lifted his own hands, palms forward at chest level.
"…Alright," Vitelli said, and a grin flickered—pure, unmistakable anticipation.
A man's ultimate romance.
A beam clash.
White light gathered in his palms—bright, sharp, terrifying.
"White…"
"Hot…!"
The air warped. Energy howled. The entire chamber trembled as if it suddenly remembered physics existed.
"KA—ME—HA—ME—HAAAA!!!" Goku roared, firing the fully formed Kamehameha.
"METEOR—HAAAA!!!" Vitelli released his own—carefully suppressing his power to match Goku's output.
The blue and white beams slammed together—
BOOOOM!!!
The collision detonated like thunder trapped in a metal box.
A violent shockwave exploded outward.
The chamber's special alloy walls screamed under the strain.
Cracks spiderwebbed instantly across the surface.
The control panel erupted in sparks.
The five-times gravity field destabilized—then collapsed.
The entire gravity chamber became a bomb.
RUMMMMBLE—!!
The ground shook.
The shock rolled out from the Brief estate and hit the surrounding area for kilometers.
Buildings rattled. Furniture toppled. Windows shattered.
People outside screamed and ran.
"Earthquake!"
"RUN!"
—
Inside the main estate—
Bulma, still in sleepwear, was jolted awake by violent shaking and a roar like the end of the world.
Dust rained from the ceiling. Wall decorations fell. Cracks spread across the plaster.
Her face went pale.
"What is happening?!" she shrieked.
She scrambled off the bed and—forgetting all pride—dove under a thick wooden table.
"I thought this house could handle a ten-point earthquake!" she wailed, shaking. "Vitelli! HELP!!!"
Outside in the garden, Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief lay on the ground with their animals, hands over their heads, enduring the tremors in stunned disbelief.
—
Back in the gravity chamber—
The moment the beams collided, Vitelli felt it.
He'd underestimated it.
Even with his power suppressed, the collateral damage from a beam clash was still catastrophic in a real environment.
He saw the walls splitting.
He felt the estate shaking.
His face snapped tight.
"Damn it—!"
Vitelli forcefully reeled in his White Hot Meteor—cutting it off mid-release—then surged forward through the remaining pressure of Goku's beam.
In a blink, he was in front of Goku.
Chop!
A precise hand strike hit Goku's neck.
Goku didn't even have time to grunt.
His eyes rolled back and he collapsed instantly, the Kamehameha cutting off like a severed wire.
Vitelli didn't spare the unconscious kid a glance.
He slammed through a cracked section of wall, blasting a hole straight out of the chamber and sprinted for the house, heart pounding like a hammer.
Only when he saw Bulma—and Dr. and Mrs. Brief—alive and unharmed did he finally release a breath that felt like he'd been holding it for years.
The shaking faded.
The estate, however…
Looked like a war zone.
—
In the living room—
Bulma had changed clothes, but her hair was still messy, her eyes blazing.
She grabbed Vitelli by the ear and twisted hard, voice shaking with fury.
"So you're telling me this 'earthquake' happened because you and Goku were sparring?!!"
Vitelli winced.
Bulma's glare could've melted steel.
"Do you have any idea I almost got crushed by the ceiling?!" she roared. "Are you sick of living here?! Are you trying to remodel by force?! Or do you think I'm not pretty enough and you want a new—"
Vitelli grabbed her gently but firmly—
And kissed her.
A sudden, fierce kiss—full of apology, lingering fear, and soft, wordless reassurance.
Bulma struggled for half a second—
Then her anger cracked.
Her body loosened in his arms.
When they finally separated, Bulma stared at him, cheeks flushed, eyes still sharp but no longer screaming.
Vitelli wore the expression of a man who had been fully humbled by reality.
Bulma clicked her tongue, "Hmph," and shoved him away—refusing to let him win too easily.
Then she pulled out her phone and called Capsule Corporation's construction division.
Her voice turned crisp, commanding, absolute.
She demanded the best engineering team. Immediate deployment. Full repair. No delays.
When she finished firing off orders, she turned and jabbed a finger toward the ruined gravity chamber.
"And also," Vitelli said cautiously, "Goku's still in there… kind of… face-down."
Bulma's eye twitched.
She marched with him to what was now basically a pile of expensive scrap.
After a short search through the wreckage, they found Goku curled in a corner, still unconscious—
Snoring softly.
Peaceful.
As if he hadn't just helped shake an entire district.
Bulma stared at him, then at Vitelli.
"…You two," she muttered, exhausted.
A heavy, helpless feeling rose in her chest. She inhaled slowly and forced herself to calm down.
Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Don't get mad.
This is the man you chose.
What else can you do?
She planted her hands on her hips and delivered her ultimatum like a judge handing down a sentence.
"From now on—absolutely NO fighting in the house. EVER. And you are NEVER, ever allowed to do something that makes it look like you're trying to demolish my home again. Understood?!"
Vitelli snapped upright instantly, face serious, posture perfect.
"Yes, ma'am! Loyalty! I guarantee there won't be a next time!"
Bulma's glare softened—barely.
Then she rubbed her temples and sighed as she looked over the destruction.
"Great. Just great." Her tone turned bitter. "I had appointments with several top-tier chefs. They were supposed to arrive at noon and prepare a huge lunch."
She gestured at the chaos.
"Now the house is a disaster zone. We can't host anyone."
Her mind worked fast. In seconds, she made a decision.
"Fine. We'll temporarily move to the lake estate outside the city," she said. "It's spacious, the environment is nice, and we can actually breathe there."
She started sending rapid instructions on her phone, already coordinating the relocation.
"The chefs can bring ingredients and equipment and meet us there this afternoon."
Vitelli watched her cleanly take control of the mess, and his shoulders finally relaxed.
He couldn't help the thought that slipped through, full of guilty relief.
Thank goodness I ended up with Bulma.
A Capsule Corporation heiress really is something else.
His eyes drifted to Goku, still snoring like an angel amid the wreckage.
Vitelli's mouth tugged into a mischievous smile as he remembered the future version of Goku who'd be utterly dominated by Chi-Chi's discipline.
Fate…
Really was drifting off its original path.
Vitelli hoisted the unconscious Goku over his shoulder like a sack of rice and joined Bulma in directing robots and staff to pack essentials.
Soon the whole family boarded a spacious, luxurious aircraft.
The engine rumbled low as it lifted off toward the countryside lake estate.
And of course, Goku came with them.
There was no way Vitelli was leaving him in a ruin.
As the craft rose, Vitelli looked down through the window at the Brief estate—now resembling a battlefield—and massaged his temples with a tired sigh.
"…And I was going to use lunch to try summoning Whis."
His voice was quiet, almost mournful.
He stared toward the distant horizon.
"Guess I'll have to wait until we're settled… or try again later."
He only hoped the legendary angel really was what he suspected—
Someone who couldn't resist good food.
Because if that part was wrong…
Then today's "experiment" would have been a disaster for absolutely nothing.
And Bulma might actually kill him next time.
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