The first thing I learned about being homeless in Dragon Ball was this.
People ignore you with professional skill.
I mean, I'd expected it. Big city, lots of Capsule Corp tech, flying cars overhead, no one looks down. Literally or metaphorically. Still, after the third person walked straight past me while I was clearly, very politely trying to ask a question, my patience wore thin.
"Excuse me, sir?" I said, tugging lightly on the sleeve of a middle-aged guy in a business suit.
He didn't even slow down.
Didn't acknowledge me.
Didn't blink.
Just kept walking like I was an NPC with no dialogue prompt.
So I kicked him in the nuts.
To be clear: adult man. Fully grown. Business suit. Probably paid taxes.
He let out a sound that I'm pretty sure violated several international sound treaties and collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
I did not stay to admire my work.
I ran.
Down an alley. Over a fence. Through a street market. I didn't stop until my lungs were burning and my heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest.
When I finally slowed down, bent over with my hands on my knees, I laughed to myself.
"I go reborn in dragon ball ," I muttered to myself between breaths, "and the first thing I do is commit a felony."
Fantastic start, Ben. Really strong opening move.
Once my adrenaline wore off and I stopped expecting police drones to descend on me, I went back to the original plan: figure out where the hell I was.
This time, I was smarter about it.
I hung around a street corner where people were actually talking, vendors, delivery drivers, tourists. I listened instead of asking.
That's when I heard it.
"…traffic's worse than usual near Capsule Corp today."
I froze.
Capsule Corp.
My head slowly turned toward the massive skyline, where towering white buildings pierced the clouds like they owned the sky itself.
Another voice chimed in. "Well, this is West City."
West City.
I almost cried.
Not because West City was safe, Dragon Ball cities were never safe, but because West City meant Bulma.
Bulma meant resources.
Bulma meant brains.
Bulma meant maybe not dying horribly in the next arc.
I clenched my fists, excitement bubbling up in my chest.
"Okay," I whispered. "We can work with this."
I didn't have money.
I didn't have transport.
And subway turnstiles are surprisingly unforgiving to dirty, shoeless kids.
So I walked.
For bloody days.
West City was bigger than it looked in the anime. Streets stretched forever, buildings changed style every few districts, and Capsule Corp remained infuriatingly distant, always visible, never closer.
I slept wherever I could. Parks. Under bridges. Once, briefly, inside a hollowed-out capsule container before a very angry raccoon-like creature chased me out and i am starting to hate this logo, as it was bloody everywhere.
I survived on stolen bread, donated leftovers, and the occasional pity snack from someone who looked at me a little too long.
But every day, I checked maps.
Actual, physical subway maps plastered on station walls.
And there it was.
Capsule Corporation Headquarters.
A big, bold label like the universe itself was winking at me.
Capsule Corp HQ place was… unreal.
Clean white walls. Massive gates. Security tech that screamed do not mess with us. Guards in neat uniforms who looked like they could handle themselves even in a world full of martial artists.
I walked up to the gate.
"Hi," I said, trying my best not to sound like a starving gremlin. "I need to see Bulma Briefs."
The guard didn't even hesitate.
"No."
Fair.
"I just need a minute."
"No."
"but i nee-."
"No."
I nodded, absorbing the rejection like a seasoned veteran.
Then I sat down.
Right in front of the gate.
Cross-legged.
I didn't block traffic. I didn't yell. I didn't cause a scene.
I just… stayed.
Hours passed.
The sun moved. Guards changed shifts. People came and went, throwing me curious glances.
I didn't move.
I wasn't doing this out of stubbornness.
I was doing this because I had nothing else.
Night came. I slept sitting up.
Morning came. I stayed.
Around midday of the second day, a shadow fell over me.
"Well," a gentle, amused voice said, "this is unusual."
I looked up.
Old man. Short. White hair. Thick mustache. Lab coat.
Dr. Brief.
Bulma's dad.
And my hero.
I scrambled to my feet so fast I nearly fell over.
"S-sir! I..uh...I wanted to talk to Bulma!"
He blinked, surprised, but not annoyed.
"Oh?" he said kindly. "And you thought the best way to do that was to sit outside my gate all day long?"
Ben: >:)
He laughed.
"Well," he said, patting my shoulder, "that's certainly one way. Come along, then."
I followed him through the gates, my heart pounding like I'd just rolled a natural 20 on a persuasion check.
Dr. Brief led me through hallways that looked straight out of sci-fi heaven. Clean floors. Floating screens. Technology so advanced it made my old smartphone feel like a rock with buttons.
We stopped in front of a lab door.
Dr. Brief opened it without knocking.
And that's when I saw them.
Bulma.
Yamcha.
Kissing.
EEW.
Not dramatic anime kissing, just casual, normal type like, "we've been doing this for a while" kissing.
Bulma noticed first.
"DAD!" she screamed, shoving Yamcha away. "KNOCK!"
Dr. Brief blinked. "Oh? I wanted to talk to you."
Bulma turned to me.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…and who is this?"
I swallowed.
This was it. No script. No redo.
"My name is Ben," I said quickly. "Nice to meet you."
She stared at me.
Then she REALLY looked at me.
The clothes. The dirt. The ribs I couldn't hide.
"…why are you here?" she asked, voice softening just a bit.
"I need help," I said honestly. "And I was hoping you could take me to see Master Roshi."
Yamcha raised an eyebrow. "You know Roshi?"
"…yes," I lied.
Bulma crossed her arms. "Then why didn't you just go there yourself?"
I gave her a deadpan look.
She followed my gaze downward.
My bare feet.
My condition.
My everything.
"…oh," she said. "Right."
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Fine," she said. "Lunch first. Then we'll see."
I nearly collapsed from relief.
Later that day...
They gave me a bath.
A real bath.
Hot water. Soap. Clean towels.
I nearly cried again.
They gave me clothes too, Capsule Corp branded, but soft and warm and mine.
We ate lunch together.
I didn't wolf it down. I forced myself to eat slowly, even though my body screamed at me to inhale everything.
Bulma watched me carefully. Yamcha looked curious. Dr. Brief smiled like he already knew how this story would go.
"So," Bulma said, "you want to see Roshi. Why?"
I hesitated.
"Because," I said carefully, "I think he can help me not be useless."
She snorted. "Good luck with that."
But she smiled.
And later on, we boarded a small Capsule Corp aircraft.
I leaned back in my seat, staring out at the ocean below.
I now know i was between Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z, timeline anyways.
Time to prepare.
Time to learn.
And for the first time since I died complaining in that BIG FAT UGLY DUM DUM RUN-DOWN theater…
I felt hopeful.
Ben power level: 1