Chapter 12: Lu Meets Yamcha
Bulma approached Ye Lin with wide-eyed curiosity, her scientific instincts kicking in. Without hesitation, she grabbed Ye Lin's hand and examined his fingertips carefully.
"Strange..." she muttered, turning his palm over. "There's no sign of cybernetics, no mechanical seams or emitters. This isn't a robotic arm at all. So how did you project that energy beam? Light like that should need a focus lens or a plasma generator."
As a budding genius inventor already tinkering with Capsule tech and bio-sensors Bulma Briefs couldn't help but dig deeper when faced with an anomaly.
Ye Lin let her inspect his hand for a moment, amused. He was equally surprised to meet Bulma in person. She wasn't just any girl she was a central figure in the Dragon Ball timeline. The future creator of countless gadgets, including the Dragon Radar, and a lifelong ally to Son Goku.
"My name is Ye Lin," he introduced, finally pulling his hand away gently. "How did you end up being chased by the Red Ribbon Army?"
Bulma let out a huff, straightening her clothes as she looked around at the wrecked battlefield.
"They were trying to kidnap me. Probably figured that ransoming the Capsule Corporation heiress would be worth a fortune. But I'm not just a damsel, you know. I had bodyguards though clearly, not enough. Anyway…" Her expression lit up again. "I was out here testing a prototype of my new invention the Dragon Radar. I want to return to West City and fine-tune it in the lab."
That statement clicked immediately in Ye Lin's mind. Of course this was the early stage where Bulma was still perfecting the Dragon Radar. In the main timeline, she would soon team up with Goku on a journey to find all seven Dragon Balls.
"I've actually got one right here," Ye Lin said, opening his inventory and pulling out a fully functional Dragon Radar.
Bulma's jaw dropped.
"Wait you built this?" She snatched it from his hand, her eyes scanning the smooth casing and advanced interface. "This is miles ahead of mine! The frequency calibration's perfect… the circuitry's micro-layered—how did you even stabilize the signal receiver to lock onto Dragon Ball energy?!"
She stomped her foot in frustration.
"My design is so clunky compared to this one! I'm not giving up—I'll catch up to you!"
Bulma puffed her cheeks and glared at him playfully, hands on her hips. Ye Lin chuckled. She was brilliant, headstrong, and a bit dramatic just like in the original manga.
"I've decided," she declared, "I'm not going home. If you're collecting Dragon Balls using this radar, then I'm coming too! I need to study the tech and collect the balls myself. Once I gather them, I'm going to wish for… my Prince Charming!"
Ye Lin shook his head, smiling wryly. So naïve… But he knew that having Bulma around would be more of a help than a hindrance. Especially since the seventh Dragon Ball's location was still a mystery. If anyone could enhance the Radar's range, it was Bulma.
He handed the Dragon Radar back to her.
"Take it. Improve it if you can."
Bulma beamed. "You won't regret this!"
To change the mood, Ye Lin pulled out one of his system rewards a Lamborghini sports car by tossing a Capsule. With a pop, the shiny luxury car appeared on the roadside.
Bulma gasped.
"Wait a minute… You're young, clearly trained in ki control, rich enough to toss out a Lambo, and you built a better Dragon Radar than me? What even are you?!"
Ye Lin laughed. "Just someone passing through."
She squinted at him with suspicion and curiosity.
---
Meanwhile, deep in Red Ribbon HQ...
Adjutant Black sat at his desk, frowning as he reviewed the report from the failed kidnapping mission.
"So… the operation was a complete failure," he muttered. "Seems Capsule Corp planted a powerful escort we didn't anticipate. That complicates things."
As he contemplated their next move, a voice broke the silence.
"Commander, if it's too tricky for your men... how about outsourcing the job?"
Across the table sat a man idly flipping a dagger between his fingers, smirking with confidence. He wore a dark cloak bearing the insignia of the underground syndicate known as the Extermination Pavilion.
"Our agents are trained in assassination, infiltration, and capture. If we succeed, perhaps the general will grant our group official affiliation with the Red Ribbon Army."
Black's eyes narrowed.
The Extermination Pavilion was ruthless—rumored to handle missions even the Red Ribbon elites wouldn't touch. If anyone could retrieve Bulma, it would be them.
"Fine," Black said at last. "But if you fail... there will be no second chances."
The assassin smiled.
"We won't."
The man toying with a throwing knife in front of Adjutant Black was Li Xiaodao, hall master of the Extinction Pavilion an elite assassination syndicate ranking third in the global killer hierarchy. Their notoriety even surpassed the now-obliterated Shenji Regiment.
"Enough of your complaints," Li Xiaodao said coldly, spinning the knife between his fingers. "We're the ones risking our necks. This time, we want sixty percent of the reward."
"Sixty? That's excessive," Adjutant Black replied, his brow furrowed.
"Too much? You're sitting comfortably behind a desk while we handle the bloodshed. You're lucky we're not asking for seventy. Forty percent is already generous for you."
The blade in Li Xiaodao's hand glinted with killing intent. Faced with that sharp gleam, Adjutant Black wisely compromised.
"Very well, sixty percent it is. But I expect results, quickly. If this goes well, I'll recommend your syndicate to General Red himself."
Li Xiaodao gave a twisted smile.
"No need to worry. We're not like those second-rate grunts from the Shenji Regiment. They embarrassed the entire underworld getting wiped out by a lone martial artist. If I ever run into that guy, I'll make sure he remembers my name."
With a swift flourish, Li Xiaodao slashed the air. Dozens of throwing knives materialized and embedded themselves flawlessly into the nearby wall. Though he had only visibly drawn one blade, somehow a full set appeared, each knife precisely aligned to form the kanji for "Blade (刀)".
With a confident turn, he exited the room, leaving Black to contemplate the precision and menace of the assassin he had just hired.
---
Meanwhile, Ye Lin was driving with Bulma seated beside him in the passenger seat of his recently summoned Lamborghini, gifted from his previous system draw. Despite its Earthly value, Ye Lin considered the car little more than a novelty compared to his ki-enhanced travel methods.
At the moment, the Dragon Radar showed no new signals.
"The seventh Dragon Ball's still hidden…" Ye Lin muttered.
Bulma, who was now more familiar with Ye Lin and had taken a deep interest in the radar, scrutinized the device closely.
"You've already collected six Dragon Balls?!" she exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's insane. The probability of finding that many without interference from the Red Ribbon Army or rival seekers is practically zero!"
"Yeah," Ye Lin nodded, "but the last one isn't showing up on the radar at all."
"That's odd," Bulma frowned, tapping the screen. "This radar covers a huge detection range. Unless the Dragon Ball's underground, shielded, or in another dimension, it should be visible."
After a pause, Ye Lin recalled something important.
"There's someone who might help… Fortuneteller Baba. Her crystal ball sees across time and space. We'll head for her palace next."
Bulma brightened. "Excellent! I've always wanted to see her psychic tech up close. Let's go!"
---
At that same moment, across the dunes of the Diablo Desert…
Puar hovered mid-air, holding a telescope in his paws. He squinted into the lens, catching sight of a shiny red sports car kicking up sand on the horizon.
"Master Yamcha! Two targets inbound riding in a supercar. Bet they're rich!"
Next to him, dressed in green gi pants and a yellow scarf, stood Yamcha, the notorious desert bandit and martial artist, known for ambushing travelers with his fast off-road rides and swift blade.
"Looks like a payday," Yamcha smirked. "Let's greet our generous donors."
They jumped into their dune buggy and sped off, kicking up clouds of dust as they made a beeline for the luxury car.
---
Inside the Lamborghini, Ye Lin sensed the approach.
"They're coming at us. Definitely not Red Ribbon… but trouble, still."
SCREECH!
The dune buggy drifted sideways in front of Ye Lin's vehicle, cutting them off completely.
Yamcha leapt out dramatically, blade resting on his shoulder.
"This here's a toll road, friend," he announced. "If you value your life and that fancy car, hand over your goods."
Ye Lin didn't even blink. "You're not great at introductions, are you?"
Puar floated beside Yamcha and whispered, "Master Yamcha, he looks strong…"
Ye Lin, however, recognized him immediately. The green gi, the desert ambush it could only be Yamcha. The early Yamcha, anyway. Before he grew into the loyal Z-Fighter he would become.
The door popped open, and Bulma stuck her head out.
"Ugh, bandits? Again? Ye Lin, just blast him and let's get moving."
Ye Lin gave a helpless laugh. She's treating me like a bodyguard now.
Yamcha, meanwhile, caught sight of Bulma—and froze. His confident swagger vanished instantly, replaced by stammering fear.
"A-a woman…! Wh-why did it have to be a girl?!"
Ye Lin chuckled. Right—Yamcha's crippling fear of girls. I forgot how bad it was in the early arcs.
Bulma didn't give Yamcha another glance and returned to her radar.
Once she disappeared inside, Yamcha visibly relaxed. He refocused on Ye Lin and drew his blade again.
"All right, pal. Time's up. Hand over the goods, or—"
Ye Lin held up his hand and tossed a glimmering Dragon Ball into the air casually. Yamcha's eyes widened.
"W-wait… that's a Dragon Ball?! A real one?! Jackpot!"
Excitement overtook him. "Guess I picked the right target after all!"
He lunged with a powerful slash of his sword.
But before the blade could land, Ye Lin calmly lifted his finger. A blinding beam of light shot out—a Dodōnpa wave—directly through Yamcha's weapon.
CRACK!
The sword split in two, severed cleanly down the middle.
Yamcha froze, staring at the broken hilt in disbelief.
"…What the—?"
He looked up at Ye Lin, sweat forming at his temple.
The tide had turned.
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