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[Gas - Lvl 394] (Power Level: 312,500)

[He is the muscle of the Heeter Family and a genius at fighting. His family had hoped for him one day to become strong enough to defeat Frieza. He is the youngest and strongest of the Heeter Family and handles most forms of destruction they need.]

 

Yamcha saw the difference in power and used Supernatural Body Control, a skill that had evolved from Roshi's Pump Up. 

 

He controlled every muscle fiber in his body to twist around the bones for better protection and make it hard for his bones to be dislocated. The veins in his body also moved around to safer positions, and limiters in his brain were removed, too. Combining that with Ki Enhancement brought his power boost to 300%. 

 

Gas and Yamcha looked each other in the eyes and didn't say anything at first, as if the world had paused. You could cut the tension with a knife.

 

In the next second, they moved, and the world still hadn't caught up to their speed. 

 

In the Dragon Ball Z show, Yamcha always admired how the fighters would disappear from the shot, giving the animation the illusion of speed. 

 

That wasn't exactly what happened here. As Yamcha went faster, the world around him slowed to almost a halt. 

 

Only he and Gas were the ones moving in this world. Even the air seemed to react a step too late to their attacks. Like a thunderbolt when you first see the lightning before the boom. 

 

Using his experience on Earth, Yamcha had the upper hand initially, despite having a lower power level. His punches landed more, and their distance in power wasn't enough that either of them would walk out undamaged by the other's hit. 

 

But as they fought, Yamcha started losing the upper hand as Gas' moves became sharper, and better. 

 

'It feels like he's learning from me.' Yamcha thought, dodging a punch aimed to his stomach, only to suffer from a backhanded elbow to the face. 

 

He wasn't going to let that hit go unanswered, so Yamcha grabbed the elbow on his face with one hand while his other hand shot a Ki blast point-blank at his opponent, creating some distance. 

 

"You're good," Gas rubbed his bloody nose. The Ki blast might not have been charged up, but it hadn't been weak. "Usually, when I fight, my enemies become surprised and irrational as I get used to their moves. But you instead become better too. I wonder which one between us is the stronger genius?"

 

Yamcha felt like his opponent had misunderstood something here. He wasn't getting better, only was just getting used to fighting against an opponent of this level without 150x gravity crushing down on him. "You're not bad yourself, kid."

 

"I'm over forty years old."

 

"...If we had met under different circumstances, we might have been friends," Yamcha ignored the age.

 

"No, we wouldn't. You look like the kind of guy who pokes fun at his friends," Gas said as his body enlarged, with muscles poking out. The quest young man grew quite talkative the closer to the berserk mode he got.

 

"That's the best thing about friendships. Are you even friends if you don't insult someone at least once daily?" Yamcha retorted. But his question went unanswered as Gas's eyes had turned white, and he had entered his rage mode. 

 

There was enough power within Gas for him to blow up a small country just by him powering up. This was the equivalent of almost 1,000,000 power levels, which was ridiculously strong. 

 

'I fucking hate forms that grant multipliers. They're like cheat codes!' Yamcha complained in his mind. But reality never liked complainers, as Gas punched him in the face and smashed his body to the ground. He grabbed Yamcha's hand and threw him into a faraway rock formation, with his ragdoll body smashing through a dozen of them before coming to a stop.

 

Yamcha touched his jaw and winced. It was dislocated. With a gut-wrenching pop, he put his jaw in place and got up. 

 

‘I wasn’t even able to react. This was the difference between 300,000 and 1,000,000 in power levels.’

 

As Yamcha got up, Gas' shadow had already set after him. He barely stopped himself from being bisected as he jumped back, but the right side of his chest was still ripped to shreds. He was thankful for Gamer's Body during brutal battles like these. An injury like this would have incapacitated or even killed him. 

 

"Graaaa!" Gas aimed to rip Yamcha's throat out. But the latter wasn't going to give up so easily, and recounted the many martial arts he had learned, which were now Skills on his Status Page. 

 

Yamcha stopped Gas' arm by giving the raging brute a kick to his hand, causing him to raise his hand up. He then punched Gas in the face, but it was ineffective.

 

'Drunken Fist is a no-go, then.'

 

But Yamcha wasn't done with these, as the Ki around him morphed into wolves. The Ki Beasts, given sentience by Magic, bit down on Gas' body and started exploding one by one. 

 

Yet to Gas, that was nothing more than a distraction as he walked towards Yamcha in slow steps and a sadistic smirk on his face. 

 

"You know, when training in the Gravity Chamber, I realized such training wasn't too efficient for me. At least not as efficiently as it was with the Saiyans. I grew a little jealous. I won't lie to you about that. But during that time, for a whole month as I broke down my body relentlessly, I came to a simple realization. I'm a human, not a Saiyan. So why should I fight like them?" Yamcha hadn't used such tactics against someone. 

 

In his enraged form, Gas didn't even seem to understand what Yamcha was saying. The latter didn't mind being paid attention to. 

 

Within a split second, Gas was in front of him and ready to do what he did best, punch his face in. But as the attack got closer, Yamcha's hands raised up. Magic flew out and a thick steel shield formed in front of him. 

 

Yamcha was a little nervous. The fighting style he envisioned in his mind was entirely theoretical. He had never used it in a fight.

 

If this didn't work, then he didn't exactly have a new plan on how to deal with this. There wasn't much one could do in this world against someone with absolute power. 

 

Gas' fist met Yamcha's metal shield. 

 

Clank!

 

A bell-like sound rang out, and Yamcha's legs buckled a little, but he stood his ground. Using Solid Swimming, his hand moved straight through the shield, which rippled like water. He grabbed Gas' hair and tugged at it. While Yamcha's arm could pass through the shield, Gas' head couldn't.

 

Clang!

 

Gas' head hit the shield, and he grunted. But Yamcha didn't stop there as he delivered a kick to his opponent and sent him skidding back. 

 

"I guess in your enraged form, and you probably can't even hear me. This is the first time I think I have ever talked during a serious fight. Where life and death are at stake." Yamcha spoke. His body was loose and not as tight as it usually was. To an outsider, it would seem like his body was left unguarded. There were no defenses anymore. One solid hit from Gas would end his life.

 

Yamcha knew the risks, the wind felt soft on his skin, and he could taste the blood in his mouth. There was a ringing sound in his ears, and he smelled the dust. He also saw Gas' muscles tensing, charging at him at speeds Yamcha couldn't keep up with. 

 

How do you defeat someone who's overwhelmingly stronger, faster, and more durable than you? The answer in a street fight and planet-busting levels was the same. 

 

If you want to win against stronger opponents… you always play dirty.

 

Yamcha's Ki wriggled erratically, and it started crackling like lightning before it formed a shield around him which Gas punched. 

 

The lightning slithered up the Gas’ arm and body, paralyzing him for a split second. 

 

'Thunder Shock Surprise'

 

But that split second was all Yamcha needed.

 

Swords, spears, sickles, scythes, three-pronged spears, cutlasses, rapiers, and so many weapons even Yamcha didn't know the name of appeared around him. Each was created with his Magic Power and then enhanced by Ki, as they punctured Gas' temporarily paralyzed body like a porcupine.

 

'Magic Materialization'

 

This wasn't a Magic Skill he had learned from Kami. But a Skill called Flying Carpet Creation, whose Max level was five, evolved, and Yamcha had chosen this from the skill tree at the time. 

 

"Agggghhhhh!!!" Gas roared in defiance. 

 

Though many weapons stuck through his body, Yamcha hadn't had the power to pierce in too deep. 

 

Gas burst toward him, ready to rain down attacks on him. Even knowing that if one of those landed, he would be dead, Yamcha had a cold look on his face. There was no emotion, or fear, only pure calculative ability. 

 

He no longer looked at this as someone who was fighting to the death. Yamcha was looking at it from a Gamer's Perspective. Even if you lose a character, why worry? This was a kind of self-hypnotization to make him not care about the surrounding worries. 

 

Yamcha created a red cloak in front of himself using Magic Materialization. Gas was in a raging state and didn't even stop to think this might be a trap. He charged right at the red cloak and caused for one second to cover his. Even sight.

 

Gas pulled the cloak down and looked above. Yamcha was there with two daggers in hand and stabbed them both in Gas' eyes. 

 

"Aghhhhhhh!!!!" A beast-like howl of pain escaped Gas' throat. He tried grabbing the knives that were now in his eyes. 

 

Yamcha took this chance, creating another sword for himself and using that Ki Control he had practiced for years. Something he honed every single day. He formed a sheen of sharpness around the sword and swung.

 

Cutting through Gas' arm was like cutting through tough meat. But in the end, an arm fell to the ground.

 

Gas' best roars grew louder as he galloped toward his opponent like a mindless bull. 

 

Yamcha hadn't been able to see Gas move in quite a while. But that didn't matter much, as Gas' attacks had grown straightforward, a basic charge, a punch; the legs weren’t used for kicks, but just for running. Even a blind man could tell the alien was fighting on pure primal instinct. 

 

Creating a four-pronged weapon forming a square sharp formation with their tips, Yamcha pointed it forward. "Mindless opponents are always the easiest to handle. If you had stayed in your half-berserk stage, you would have had a better chance."

 

Gas was already too close by the time the weapon had been created. It wasn't Yamcha's power but Gas' own as he stabbed himself right through his opponent's weapon. One tip stabbed where his heart was, one where his kidney, the other where the other kidney, and the last prong stabbed on the right side of his chest.

 

On top of all the weapons that had initially stabbed into him. Making Gas look like a bladed porcupine.

 

Not everyone had a Gamer's Body like Yamcha, and the injuries had slowly added up. Gas' body started deflating and he slowly turned back to his young form. The young Heeter looked Yamcha in the eyes, and there was hate, and despair, but also a dose of respect in there. 

 

Though they both were enemies, that didn't mean Yamcha didn't respect Gas' power or the Heeter didn't respect Yamcha's ability to fight that power by pure technique. 

 

"How can you win when there is such a big gap between us? Was it for revenge?" Gas asked, his voice shallow; he was close to death. 

 

"No, I don't fight for silly things like that. What I concentrate on most during a fight is victory. Every other thought is useless." Yamcha answered truthfully. 

 

Gas had a smile on his face, but Yamcha wasn't sure if the Heeter had even heard his words before dying. 

 

[You have killed: Gas (Lvl 394)]

 

[Level Up!]

 

[Level Up!]

 

[Level Up!]

 

.

.

.

 

An endless string of Level Up notifications filled Yamcha's view. 

 

[Lvl 131 -> 198]

 

He had gotten sixty-seven levels in one kill. 

 

'Isn't RPG supposed to be grinding levels? Killing tyrants really is the best.' 

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A/N: Gas in this case was… expressive. But I mean in the story, he was the definition of power and no technique.