Morning at the Briefs' estate lay wrapped in quiet. Sunlight leaked through the curtain seams, scattering warm patches across the floor.
Vitelli and Bulma slept in each other's arms, their breathing steady and peaceful. For once, Vitelli hadn't gotten up early to head to the gravity room—he was savoring this rare bit of laziness in bed.
But the calm didn't last.
"Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!"
A rapid, heavy knock exploded outside the bedroom door like firecrackers.
"Vitelli! You up yet?! You up?! Vitelli! Bang bang bang!"
Goku's booming, energetic voice punched straight through the door and into their ears.
Bulma frowned hard, grumbled in annoyance, and instinctively burrowed deeper into Vitelli's chest.
Vitelli jolted awake. The last of his sleep vanished, and a vein popped at his temple. He carefully slid his arm out from under Bulma, sat up quietly, and looked at her—awake enough to be frowning in confusion, her delicate brows knit together. He lowered his voice.
"It's fine. Go back to sleep. I'll see what that idiot wants this early."
His tone was loaded with irritation.
Bulma nodded drowsily like a half-asleep cat, pulled the blanket over her head, and drifted back to sleep.
Vitelli, radiating low pressure, yanked the door open.
Goku's face—pure excitement—filled his view.
"Vitelli! I got stronger! That iron house of yours is so useful! I feel—"
Goku was ready to rattle off his training results without taking a breath.
Vitelli didn't even reply. He struck like lightning, grabbed Goku's chubby cheeks, and twisted hard.
"Ow!" Goku yelped, but his grin didn't fade. He acted like he was already used to this kind of "greeting."
"You bastard! Why the hell are you waking people up at dawn?!" Vitelli hissed, keeping his voice low but vicious.
"I got stronger, Vitelli!"
Goku didn't care about his face being squeezed. His voice stayed loud and bright. "Really! That iron house is amazing! Punching in there feels totally different!"
Watching Goku bounce with excitement made Vitelli's temples throb. He simply seized Goku by the collar like an unruly puppy, dragged him into the roomy living room, and tossed him onto the sofa.
"Alright, alright—shut up. I'm washing up first. Whatever you want to say can wait until I'm done!"
Vitelli strode off toward the bathroom, muttering, "Seriously. Getting a bit stronger and he's losing his mind. Backwater Earth hick…"
He'd conveniently forgotten how he used to feel when he first powered up—how badly he wanted to share it—except on Planet Vegeta there hadn't been anyone worth talking to.
He'd barely stepped into the bathroom when Goku's voice chased after him:
"Vitelli! I'm starving! I haven't eaten since last night's training!"
Vitelli halted, rolled his eyes, and yelled back, "I heard you! Wait!"
Then he used the smart-home system to have the robot butler prepare a massive breakfast, and only then started washing up with a yawn.
When he returned to the living room, refreshed, Goku was already at the huge dining table, tearing through a mountain of food like a hurricane.
Watching the outrageous eating speed and the food piles shrinking before his eyes, Vitelli rubbed his stomach. He wasn't that hungry yet, but…
"Since I'm here anyway," he mumbled, pulled out a chair, and joined in.
Their noisy feast drew Mrs. Brief in from the garden, where she'd been tending flowers and animals.
She set down her tiny pruning shears and walked into the dining room.
"Oh my, such an appetite this early, little Vitelli?"
She smiled at the spectacle, then looked curiously at the unfamiliar boy. "And who is this adorable little one?"
Vitelli swallowed and introduced him. "Morning, Mrs. Brief. This is Goku—an old friend Bulma and I met while searching for the Dragon Balls."
"Oh! So you're Goku-chan!"
Mrs. Brief immediately brightened, stepping right up to him. She watched his hearty eating and couldn't help ruffling his spiky hair. "How cute! Eat as much as you like, there's plenty!"
Goku's cheeks were stuffed. He answered through a mouthful, "Mmm! Thank you, big sis!"
"Big… sis?" Mrs. Brief blinked—then burst into laughter so hard she nearly doubled over.
"Oh my goodness, what a sweet mouth! You really know how to talk!"
Vitelli watched, secretly alarmed. This kid… terrifyingly good at reading people.
Breakfast—ridiculously extravagant—finally ended.
Vitelli led Goku to the backyard gravity room.
"How many times Earth's gravity can you handle now?" Vitelli asked.
Goku counted on his fingers seriously. "Five times!"
Vitelli nodded and typed into the panel. "Hummm…"
The lights dimmed slightly. Invisible pressure flooded the room.
To Vitelli, it was a gentle breeze.
He glanced at Goku. The boy stood straight, breathing steady—clearly fully adapted to five times gravity already.
"Not bad," Vitelli said with a flicker of approval. "Stabilizing at five times in one day… that's you for sure, Kakarot."
Goku beamed, fired up. "Let's spar, Vitelli! I want to see how big the gap is now!"
"Mm… fine. Let's try it."
Vitelli walked to center stage, arms crossed, chin tilted up, perfectly recreating the future Vegeta's "I'm the greatest" swagger. He crooked a finger at Goku.
"Come at me with everything. Let me see your progress, Goku!"
Goku's eyes sharpened. He took the classic Turtle School stance.
"Okay! Here I come—ha!"
He flashed forward like lightning, throwing a straight punch at Vitelli's face.
Vitelli didn't move. He casually raised a hand and caught the fist dead-on.
A light twist of his wrist sent Goku flying like a sandbag.
"Show me the real thing, you brat. Holding back in front of me?" Vitelli said, half-annoyed.
Goku flipped in midair and landed lightly. His playful look vanished, replaced by focus.
No more probing. He exploded forward.
A storm of punches rained down with "ah-da-da-da!" cries.
Vitelli's mouth curved. "That's more like it."
He still stayed planted, barely swaying. Goku's fists kept missing by hairs, only brushing Vitelli's clothes. He couldn't touch him.
Goku grit his teeth. "Afterimage Fist!"
Seven or eight Goku afterimages burst around Vitelli, all striking at once—fake and real blending together.
Vitelli didn't even bother to distinguish them. "Seriously? You think this kind of trick will fool me?"
As he spoke, the real Goku had already slipped behind him.
Goku clasped his hands, eyes flashing with excitement.
"Rock, paper, scissors—HA!!"
A Rock-Paper-Scissors punch loaded with most of his power smashed toward the back of Vitelli's head.
Vitelli never turned.
He just casually tilted his head aside. The energy gust screamed past his ear.
At the same time, his right leg whipped backward like a scorpion tail—an upward heel stomp that slammed into Goku's face.
"Yaaah—!"
Goku couldn't guard. He yelped and got launched again, tumbling across the floor.
"So… so strong!" Goku groaned, rubbing his spinning head as he stood.
His cheeks hurt, but his eyes burned hotter.
He lowered his body, then kicked off the floor—charging again, fiercer.
"Ha! Ah-da-da-da!!"
A denser, stronger combo enveloped Vitelli.
"Oh? Is that all you've got?" Vitelli said calmly.
This time he didn't dodge. The instant Goku's fists neared, Vitelli's hands darted out, locking onto both wrists.
His right foot shot forward in a heavy front kick, smashing into Goku's unguarded stomach.
"Uwaaa—!"
Goku screamed, arcing backward like he'd been hit by a speeding truck, crashing hard.
He curled up, clutching his abdomen, whimpering.
Vitelli didn't follow up. He knew Goku was nowhere near his limit.
Sure enough, after a moment, Goku forced himself up.
He didn't rush in again.
He lowered his head, hands drawing to his waist, palms facing each other. A powerful blue light began pooling between them.
His voice dropped, steady and determined, like he'd bet everything on this.
Seeing Goku go all-in, Vitelli felt a surge of respect.
He didn't want to casually disperse a move Goku had gathered with everything he had. That would crush him.
Vitelli sighed, abandoned the idea of an effortless counter, and raised both palms in front of his chest.
"If you want a beam clash… fine."
His voice held anticipation.
Because a beam clash—the ultimate manly romance.
White light bloomed in his hands.
Their auras surged, energy warping the air, light blazing to noon-bright inside the room.
"Kamehame… HAA!!"
Goku thrust out a Kamehameha, pushed to the limit.
"White-Hot… METEOR… HAA!!"
Vitelli fired at the same time—deliberately suppressing nearly all his power so the output matched Goku's.
BOOOOM—!!!!!
Two enormous beams—blue and white—collided like roaring dragons in the center of the gravity room.
A deafening explosion erupted.
Shockwaves battered the walls.
The special alloy panels groaned, spiderweb cracks racing across them. The control panel sparked wildly. The five-times gravity field scrambled and collapsed.
The gravity room became a bomb.
RUMBLE—!!!
The quake spread outward for kilometers.
The earth shook. Houses rattled. Furniture toppled. Windows shattered.
People in the streets screamed and scattered.
"Earthquake!"
"Run!!"
Inside the estate, Bulma—still in pajamas—was jolted awake by the shaking and the terrifying boom.
Dust and ornaments fell from the ceiling. Cracks crawled along the walls.
She went pale.
"What's happening?!"
Bulma shrieked, scrambling out of bed in panic. Without a shred of pride, she dove beneath the sturdy wooden table.
"I thought this house could survive a magnitude-10 quake! Vitelli, help—!!!"
In the garden, Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief were lying face-down with their pets, arms over their heads, shaken and terrified.
Vitelli realized instantly that something was wrong.
He'd underestimated how much destructive overflow even a suppressed beam clash could cause.
Seeing the walls cracking and feeling the earth convulse, his face changed.
He forcibly reeled in his White-Hot Meteor, then—against Goku's still-pouring Kamehameha—vanished in a blur and appeared right in front of him.
Chop!
A precise hand-strike hit Goku's neck.
Goku went limp instantly, aura severed. The Kamehameha died on the spot.
Vitelli didn't spare him a glance. He smashed through the cracked alloy wall, shot toward Bulma's room, and only relaxed after confirming Bulma and the Briefs were safe.
The shaking finally stopped.
Around the estate, people stood frozen and pale, still shaking.
Inside the mansion, the damage looked like a hurricane had torn through.
"So you're telling me this 'earthquake' was because you and Goku were sparring and got carried away?!"
In the living room, Bulma—changed but hair still messy—was yanking Vitelli's ear, blue eyes blazing.
"Do you know I almost got crushed under the ceiling? Vitelli, you asshole! Why did you fight that hard inside the house?! Are you sick of living here and want a new one, or are you sick of me and want a new gi—mmph!"
Her furious rant was sealed by Vitelli's sudden, hot kiss.
It carried apology, fear, and gentle coaxing.
Bulma struggled a bit, then melted into him. After a long moment, they finally separated.
Seeing Vitelli's face screaming "I am so sorry, please spare me," Bulma realized she'd nearly blurted out something she didn't mean. She huffed, shoved him off, and stopped wasting breath.
She pulled out her phone and called Capsule Corp's construction division, ordering their best crew to fix the estate immediately.
After a storm of commands and scolding, Vitelli finally pointed nervously toward the ruins.
"Uh… Goku's still in there… face-down…"
Bulma shot him a glare and followed him over.
After some searching, they found Goku in the rubble, curled in a corner, still unconscious—and lightly snoring.
Bulma stared at him, then at Vitelli—who looked like a chastened dog.
Her strength collapsed into sheer helplessness.
She inhaled deep, trying to soothe herself.
"Fine. Don't get angry, don't get angry… This is the man I chose. What can I do? Just spoil him, I guess…"
Hands on hips, she gave him a final ultimatum:
"From now on! Absolutely! You are NOT allowed to fight at home! And you are NOT allowed to make a house-destroying mess like this again! Understand?!"
"Yes! Loyalty!!! I swear there won't be a next time!!"
Vitelli snapped straight and answered crisply.
Bulma's anger only then eased down a notch.
She rubbed her temple, looking at the wreck.
"Ugh. I had three world-class chefs scheduled to come make lunch today. Now the house is a war zone—we can't host anyone."
She thought for a second, then decided quickly.
"Forget it. Let's stay at the lake estate outside the city for a while. It's quiet and huge. I'll have the chefs bring their ingredients and equipment there this afternoon."
Even as she spoke, her fingers flew over her phone sending orders to relocate the household.
Vitelli watched her handle the mess so cleanly, and finally felt his heart settle.
He couldn't help thinking, Thank god I found Bulma—a rich little goddess. Capsule Corp's heiress really is the best.
His gaze drifted to Goku, snoring in the rubble, and he remembered original-timeline Goku getting completely dominated by Chi-Chi. A mischievous smile tugged at his mouth.
Fate had already started to bend under the flap of his "butterfly wings."
He heaved unconscious Goku over his shoulder like a sack of grain and joined Bulma, directing robots and staff to pack the essentials.
Soon everyone boarded a wide, luxurious aircraft—the engines rumbling as it lifted toward the scenic countryside estate.
As for Goku? Of course they took him too. Leaving him in ruins would be cruel.
The aircraft rose slowly. Vitelli looked down through the window at the estate, now a battlefield, and massaged his forehead.
"I was going to use food to summon Whis…"
He muttered, staring ahead. "Guess we'll try again after we settle in this afternoon… or later."
He could only hope that the legendary angel really was a hopeless foodie, just as he'd guessed.