Three months passed in the blink of an eye.
Goku and Krillin were deep into Master Roshi's training, and I had quietly earned a reputation across the nearby islands as a reliable bounty hunter. Not a hired killer — only criminals. Tracking them was often harder than defeating them, but the chase kept me entertained.
I visited Bulma from time to time. She had started dating Yamcha—strange, considering his crippling fear of women, but I suppose people change faster on Earth than they ever did on Vegeta.
One afternoon, Bulma bluntly asked:
"So… what's it like being an alien? And one of the strongest people on the planet? And a girl on top of that?"
I told her the truth.
"In my culture, being a woman doesn't matter. Strength does. And honestly? Back home I was considered weak for my age. So was Goku. Saiyans believed strength only came from battle, from surviving close to death. We never considered the idea of training regularly to grow stronger. That… came from Earth."
Bulma was fascinated.
"So if training works for Saiyans, you're saying you two could become ridiculously strong?"
"Exactly."
Her eyes sparkled with ideas.
"Then teach me. Ki, sensing energy, all of it. And in return—I'll teach you technology."
The offer surprised me, but I accepted. There were things on Earth far more advanced than anything on Vegeta, and machines interested me—especially robots.
Bulma admitted:
"I don't really specialize in robotics, but I can teach you the fundamentals."
So we became each other's teachers.
After three months, I wasn't ready to build a full robot, but I understood enough to start simple machines. Meanwhile, Bulma had reached a respectable level of ki control—nothing close to Goku, but impressive for a human who'd only just begun.
One evening she pulled a tarp off something in her lab.
"Check this out."
Underneath was a suit of mechanical armor. Heavy. Bulkier than her frame by far. I helped her climb inside and immediately saw the problem.
"You can't move in that thing."
She smirked.
"Watch."
A pulse of her ki spread through the suit, and her power spiked. Even without a scouter, I could feel it.
From a power level around forty… to over a hundred.
She crossed her arms proudly.
"Pretty impressive, right? Only lasts thirty minutes, though."
"It's impressive," I agreed. "But not something I'd use."
Bulma shrugged.
"It's perfect for me. And there's one more feature."
She tapped a sequence on her belt. The armor vanished with a pop, replaced by a small capsule in her hand. She clicked the cap—and the suit instantly reappeared at full size.
"Since I can't sustain it long, I needed a fast way to take it off," she explained. "Capsule tech solves everything."
I raised a brow. "Then why bother putting it on the slow way earlier?"
Her grin widened.
"Dramatic effect."
Humans were bizarre… but charming.
After congratulating her on her achievement, I asked, "Are you going to the World Martial Arts Tournament?"
"Of course! Yamcha, Goku, and Krillin are all entering." Then she tilted her head. "What about you?"
"I'm not sure yet," I admitted. "A crowd that large seems… annoying. But I do want to see how far Goku has grown."
"Think about it," she said, waving goodbye as I headed out into the night.
I flew home under the stars, wondering whether I wanted to witness the tournament in person…
or whether the noise of thousands of humans would test my patience more than any fight ever could.