…

Bulma came and sat down next to him, and in a puff of smoke, she transformed into the wild-haired young man. "Keeping that transformation is too hard. Takes too much concentration."

 

The Multi Body Technique of the Three Eyed Tribe. Piccolo had seen the technique a lot in the past, and the three-eyed tribe was a dangerous race. 

 

He wondered if the guy in front of him was the copy or the real Yamcha?

 

It was kind of despairing how even with his power halved, the young man was still overwhelmingly stronger than him. 

 

"You actually had a pretty good chance. I'm not some super genius who can read every move. Life is too unpredictable. Those kinds of geniuses only exist in fiction." Yamcha smiled at the last words of the sentence like it was some hidden inside joke no one else but he knew.

 

Piccolo didn't bother having small talk with his killer. 

 

"Aren't you going to spew out an egg?" Yamcha suddenly asked.

 

Piccolo's body shook in tension. Even so close to death, he felt fear creep into his heart. How had the young man learned of such a thing? There was only one of him in existence. "No… Seeing your power, what is the use of offspring? He wouldn't be able to even hold a candle to you."

 

Piccolo didn't want Yamcha to know that he had already delivered an offspring.

 

"Don't worry, Old Demon. I'm sure your offspring will grow a hundred times stronger than the current me in the future," the youngster gave him a thumbs up.

 

Why was his enemy trying to cheer him up? In his long life, this was the first time Piccolo experienced something like this. Maybe worrying about such things in his last moments was useless.

 

But before he died, Piccolo was curious about one thing. "Tell me the truth. How many plans did you have in place? What if I had taken a hostage?"

 

Though the man next to him looked like the brutish, maybe even slightly naive type, what he had shown so far was anything but that. Piccolo knew underestimating the youngster had been his biggest mistake. Yamcha was a schemer through and through.

 

"I had a couple of plans," the human answered vaguely as if trying to put him at ease. "If you had been able to take Bulma hostage for real, I had this."

 

Then Yamcha took out a one-star dragon ball from his pocket? King Piccolo was confused. How come he couldn't sense the dragon ball when it was so close? But now that it was out, he could confirm that it was the real dragon ball, just like the other five he had on his ship.

 

Yet what Yamcha did next shocked him as he crushed the dragon ball in his hand. What was revealed beneath the realistic exterior were wires and screens? "I was going to exchange, or at least try and distract you with this."

 

"How did someone like you come to be?" Piccolo sighed. If he had more time, he would have liked to learn about this person. But sadly, in life, you couldn't always get what you wanted.

 

"I'm just an average guy," Yamcha shrugged. "Though three years ago, an assassin came and tried to bomb some people I care about… I learned from that mistake. I was taught to take care of threats early before they fester."

 

That was steep unnerving, at how he was underselling what had happened. Even at death, Piccolo could tell that much. But strangely, the Demon King no longer felt hateful. He had been outsmarted and outpowered, and he never stood a chance to begin with. 

 

Demon King Piccolo wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come out, he and noticed his vision was darkening. 

 

Still, there was one thing he wanted to say, and through pure willpower alone he muttered. "You're… one… scary guy."

 

Those were the last words of Demon King Piccolo, as he couldn't speak anymore as what was equivalent to his lungs got filled with blood. But he was still able to hear the last words Yamcha said to him.

 

"You're just overestimating me."

 

'No, no, I am sure everyone else is underestimating you. Even now, in your eyes, I can see the true nature hidden behind this naive-looking exterior. Piccolo Jr, my son, you must be very careful of this man. Never fight him!'

 

Just like that, Demon King Piccolo died, with no one to mourn him and only a couple of people even knowing of his existence. At a time long gone, his name spelled terror, but today was no longer such time. 

***

Yamcha got up and put Piccolo's corpse in his inventory. 

 

Though he appeared calm on the outside, there was a different story internally.

 

'Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck! Shit!!! He didn't spew out an egg! Piccolo won't come into existence! There won't be dragon balls anymore!! Kami is dead, too, fuck! Who will teach Gohan?! The timeline is fucked! Will I have to take Piccolo's role?! That sounds like a pain in the ass and too much responsibility…!!!' 

 

Despite the hell raging inside him, outwardly, Yamcha only coughed and dusted himself off. Having raging emotions and thoughts was one thing, and acting out on them was another. 

 

If there was one skill Yamcha was confident in, even in his past life, it was his emotional control. Which was basic; any man over twenty acting needlessly emotional in public, like despite hating the boss’ guts, you need to smile and say good morning. Gamer's Mind only enhanced what he had to an extreme degree. 

 

In these three years of training, Yamcha had reached a level of power where he could crush anyone on earth easily. But that training has not been to make him stronger in a physical sense. He had mostly been training his skills. 

 

There wasn't much difference at this stage if one had a power level of 1000 or 100,000. He would be able to crush anyone on Earth effortlessly with either of them.

 

As he started flying, Yamcha's Ki moved and burst out, and his flying speed increased tremendously. 

 

Combining all of the Skills' buffs gives him a boost in power of around 300%. He planned to combine that in the future with the Kaioken, though he wasn't sure if that would work. But Yamcha knew that he needed a power booster comparable to Super Saiyan. 

 

Unlike the Saiyans, he won't get such a transformation by being angry or in the spur of the moment. Instead, Yamcha had to plan things out years ahead to create something equal to or better than Super Saiyan by leveling up his skills. 

 

After that would come God Ki too, and Yamcha hypothesized that to get God Ki, he had to have a high enough perception to sense it first. That, or he had to wait for his Ki Sensing Skill to reach Level 100 and Evolve. 

 

If everything failed, the plan for him to have Shenron turn him into a Saiyan was still on the table. However, Yamcha had a sneaking suspicion that things wouldn't be that simple due to his Gamer's Body, which was both a boon and a curse in a way. Everything returns to normal after a good night's sleep, poison, curses, and even being turned into a carrot (he tested it). 

 

Would that be the same for his Saiyan race change? The body changes Shenron would make on him would just turn to nothing after a good night’s sleep. Was that the same about any cyber enhancements too? He didn’t know for sure yet. 

 

Thoughts like that moved through Yamcha's mind like tendrils. But he crushed such doubts before they could take root. 

 

Worrying about this was useless, and no matter what he felt, it wouldn't change the reality of his situation. 

 

As he flew through the sky, Yamcha couldn't help but smile. 'Well, finding a new way to power is exciting in its own way.'

 

Concentrating on the present, Yamcha's biggest worry was whether Kami was alive. But suddenly, he got an idea and took out the one-star Dragon Ball he had in his inventory. 

 

A breath of relief escaped his lungs when he saw the dragon ball looked normal and wasn't turned into stone. He wasn't 100% sure how this worked. Yamcha remembered in the anime when Guru died, and the Namekian Dragon Balls turned to stone.

 

‘Maybe being in my inventory, where time is stopped, the Dragon Ball could react differently?’ Yamcha wondered. 

 

He found it funny when the main character was 100% sure of everything in stories he used to read. In Yamcha's opinion, doing that in a real situation was kind of naive. 

 

As he got closer to the arena, unlike the clean image before, there was a crashed flying ship just outside of the tournament building. 

 

Getting closer, he saw his clone being congratulated by the announcer. "Sir Yamcha is now the World Martial Arts tournament winner for the second time in a row. Like in the last tournament, he saved the audience from mortal danger again. Can we cheer for the hero!"

 

Yamcha chuckled when he noticed the dead-eyed look on his clone's face. He wasn't enjoying this at all. Though the clone didn’t have true sentience, it was like a copy of him so it would copy his behavior. 

 

Hiding his Ki, the original mixed in with the crowd. Better the clone not enjoying this than him. He was a relatively good public speaker, since his school had taught such skills as if it was a religion.

 

Maybe he should go and release his clone from its misery? 

 

While thinking that, he noticed Tien and he had bandages all over his body, with doctors checking his hand. Seemed like this year’s tournament had a higher budget, and there were many more doctors around. 

 

Out of curiosity, Yamcha used Observe on him. 

 

[Tien - Lvl 28]

[

.

.

.

Power Level: 182

Mental State: He is going through an extreme reset of the mind. His view of the world has shifted. There's a possible great evolution for the character in the future.]

 

After skipping some unimportant text walls, Yamcha read the last part. Great evolution? That sounded good for Tien, and Yamcha wished him well. 

 

In the meantime, he checked his stats. 

 

Name: Yamcha

Age: 20

Title: Champion

Level 68 [EXP: 98%]

 

HP: 6605/6605

MP: 410/410

KI: 1660/1660

 

Strength: 1501

Agility: 1887

Endurance: 1321

(Power Level: 1570) 

 

Intelligence: 31

Perception: 112

Willpower: 102

(Magic Power: 82)

 

Status Points: 224

 

 

This showed his real stats, though his power level was half that with the clone. Which was something his stats didn’t show. 

…

Like a good creator, Yamcha let the clone handle everything for now, as he observed from the sidelines. Once the clone took care of business, Yamcha just erased it from existence to get his power back. Thankfully this was no shadow clone, so he didn’t get the memories. The clones from the Multi Form Technique were only a copy of sentience, which followed mostly premeditated commands.

 

Then he went to the apartment he had rented. Yamcha wanted to try sleeping, something he hadn’t done in a while. But he couldn’t do that with all the noise from outside. 

 

Something unprecedented happened after he had saved everyone in the arena. Though he had done the same last tournament, it was only around a couple of hundred people, and there were no cameras around. 

 

Huge crowds had gathered outside the apartment complex. Some were chanting his name, some were journalists and here to ask questions, while most were just along for the ride. 

 

"There are journalists trying to sneak into the apartment.” Bulma walked behind Yamcha and hugged him. She leaned her head over his shoulder. “Seems like you became an overnight sensation, and your power was all caught on camera. People keep asking about you, Mr Popular."

 

Yamcha didn't show any outward emotion to this. He didn't care about fame. This might have been different if it was his last world, but now it was no longer the case. 

 

Fame sounded absolutely boring when compared to everything else this world had to offer him. "Seems like I will have to go to space as soon as possible. You coming?"

 

“You get asked in some interviews, but now you want to go to space to avoid them?” She glanced at me sarcastically. "Okay."

 

He looked at Bulma weirdly at how fast she answered. Girl, are you sure you don’t need to worry about this a little more? But decided not to dig too deep. He had other worries on his mind. 

 

"Don't worry. If you die in space, I will revive you with the dragon balls," Yamcha joked. 

 

By space standards, he might be considered a low-class warrior, but he had ways to survive. Also, he wouldn't be a low-class warrior for long. 

 

"You're an asshole," she punched him lightly on the arm. But she couldn't stay mad for long. "Aren't you going to say your goodbyes?"

 

"No," the last thing Yamcha wanted was some teary goodbye. He grabbed Bulma in a princess carry and jumped out of the window. Camera flashes immediately turned his way, as he saw a crowd had gathered at his doorstep. 

 

But he charged through the air at breakneck speeds and checked his stats while doing some calculations in his mind. 

 

At max power, he could push at almost 4000 Power Level, without much drawback, unlike the Kaioken. With the Gravity Chamber now finished, he was ready to raise his power level too. 

 

He flew to the lookout with Bulma in his arms. Yamcha grew a little more worried. The Dragon Balls' existence was the safety net he needed in case something went horribly wrong. 

 

The spaceship was still inside a capsule in his inventory. He wasn't worried about that, but whether Kami was alive or not.

 

'I lost a little control there. Maybe I shouldn't have killed Piccolo and waited until he spat out an egg. Or maybe I shouldn't have attempted to draw him out and played weak for a while longer.' 

 

Yamcha shook his head, dismissing such thoughts. Even if he had played weak, Demon King Piccolo was a dangerous man to play around with. 

 

There was no room for self-doubt. Speed was the name of the game here. Even by raising his skills, he later could have more power in a quicker time span and when needed. 

 

Whether Piccolo would exist in the future or not was a very big deal, as he would have a lot to do with Gohan's growth. Also, the Namekian himself might have some important role later on.

 

In his previous life, Dragon Ball wasn't finished. To a certain degree, it was dangerous to change too many things. Maybe Piccolo would have some major shoes to fill in the story? After all, the Namekian was Akira Toriyama’s favorite character. 

 

Arriving at Kami's Lookout didn't take long, and once there, Yamcha's eyes moved around like a madman as he tried to find Kami. 

 

For a split second, in his panic, he had forgotten he could easily sense everything on the lookout and did so. After remembering that…

 

Relief washed over him like a bucket of warm water on a cold night.

 

 Kami came out from the building and looked at him, confused. At the same time, Popo was watering flowers with a smile on his face. 

 

"Hi Kami, Popo. Just wanted to make sure of something," Yamcha waved at them, and it seemed like Kami had something to tell him, but by using Observe Yamcha saw Earth's Guardian was about to lay a heavy burden on him. "Bye."

 

He flew off before Kami could say anything. His arms wrapped around Bulma as he created a barrier around them to protect her. 

 

Piccolo existed in some form. Yamcha breathed a sigh of relief at that. 

 

"What was that about?" Bulma suddenly asked as they were flying to their launch pad. She looked down, and Yamcha felt her body shake slightly as she tried to keep her composure. "Who was that slug-looking guy? What about the black guy? Where was that place? Why haven't I seen it in any satellite images?"

 

"I see you've started questioning things again.” Yamcha looked at her with disappointment. “Remember what I told you about asking questions?"

 

"I'm not a fucking robot. Obviously, I'm going to ask questions," Bulma pouted, resisting his teasing.

 

Yamcha had to try hard to keep his smile from showing. He always loved a woman with a bit of spike in them. Obedient girls are boring. People who never question anything they're told are the most boring people to be around. "You know, if you keep being so disagreeable, I might leave you one day."

 

Though his words said that, the smile on his face that he could not hold back showed a whole different picture. Bulma noticed that too and smirked mischievously.

 

The more Bulma acted like herself, without caring what others thought too much, that was what's attractive to Yamcha. 

 

…

 

Once they arrived on his island, Yamcha could see some of Nam's tribe members working hard and training. They were good people.

 

He landed atop one of the many mountain peaks, a launching pad lay. 

 

Yamcha put Bulma down, took out a capsule, and threw it at the ground, and in a puff of smoke, a spheric alien-looking spaceship the size of a mansion came into existence. 

 

He had seen the spaceship from outside before. He hadn't been inside, which was an even more beautiful build. It looked futuristic, like the interior of a Death Star from Star Wars. 

 

Though half of the spaceship was occupied with the gravity training room, it had red tiles and a small computer to the side where one could change gravity. 

 

"How high can this go?" Yamcha asked, pointing at the gravity control.

 

Bulma, who was at the entrance of the room, shrugged. "I don't know for sure. Maybe a couple hundred?"

 

"Maybe? I don't like how that sounds," Yamcha frowned. 

 

"What? You expect me to know everything magically? Just don't go over a hundred, and you will be okay. I wasn't quite in the mood to test how much it would take to destroy a spaceship I had been working on for almost three months." 

 

Of course, Yamcha took her words as something to banter over. "That sounds like an excuse…"

 

Bulma raised a questioning brow. "You know how science and inventing new things works, right? We get the things, mix them, and see if they work. If it doesn't, we will try a different solution until it works."

 

When she said it that way, it kind of made sense. Not like Yamcha had plans anytime soon to go past one hundred. Hell, he hadn't even started the training yet. "Have you at least stocked up the food?" 

 

"Yes, for a couple of decades worth of it," Bulma rolled her eyes and leaned on the wall at the door's entrance. 

 

Yamcha could tell she didn't dare enter the room, afraid he might play a prank on her and do something like increase the gravity a little and have her stumble. 

 

Was she wrong to assume that? Absolutely not, because he will do that as soon as she makes the mistake of trusting him. 

 

Most people always assumed that a relationship was just daisies and flowers, telling each other how much you love them while having sex three times a day. No, that's movie reality. In reality, relationships are meant to be fun, and without teasing and playing around a little, both sides of the party get bored. "Are you dumb? At least prepare the food stocks for a couple of hundred years, just in case."

 

“Did you just call me dumb?” She looked at him with narrow eyes as if she was about to throw something. Sadly for her, even if she tried, he had the finger on the gravity-increasing button, and whatever object she used wouldn’t hit him. Bulma sighed; she was smart enough not to participate in a war she couldn’t win. 

 

Yamcha took this as a challenge, trying to get her mad enough to do so, and added. "I have spare parts to build a new spaceship, just in case."

 

"I'm going to start the engine," Bulma walked away while flipping him off. "Also, if our ship is destroyed in space, we're fucked either way. He can't build anything in the middle of nowhere with literal nothingness around us to stand on."

 

As soon as she left, Yamcha looked at the gravity control panels and smiled excitedly. "Time to have a training montage."

 

Which Dragon Ball Z fan hadn’t dreamed of training in a gravity machine? Excitement beat in his heart as he smiled widely. 

 

The ship started shaking and slowly flew up. Yamcha felt the strange weightlessness in his stomach. There was no window in the training room, so he went to the hallways and noticed planets pass like those separated road lines out of one of the windows. 

 

The spaceship was moving fast. 

 

‘Could this ship move faster than the speed of light?’ Yamcha wondered. If that were the case, they wouldn't be able to see anything but darkness. 

 

He didn't think about it too long and just chopped it up to anime physics. 

*******

A/N: Today is Saturday for me and I have a break. Real break, as in I didn’t have to worry about work, or exams. So I wrote a lot.